


Starbucks Lovers

by formosus_iniquis



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 07:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8569732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/formosus_iniquis/pseuds/formosus_iniquis
Summary: Mariel was pretty sure she was a good person, so she wasn't sure what she'd done to deserve this crush she'd formed on the biggest basic on campus. As if working at Starbucks wasn't bad enough.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Biblionerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biblionerd/gifts).



Starbucks was a special hell, Mariel had decided.

It was a deceptive hell, with its quiet pop music and delicious coffee smell, but from where Mariel was standing this was definitely torture. At least three shifts during the week when she wasn’t in class and a double on most weekends, all so she could pay for school and still live like a human. 

Mariel wasn’t sure it was worth it.

There were only so many times a girl could get sneered at for not knowing the bullshit that was on the secret menu; or smile as another blonde, sorority girl asked for a no foam, soy pumpkin spice latte; or take another wild guess at how the hell you were supposed to spell Lakelynn. 

It was enough to make her wonder if it was even worth it, paying for the expensive school with the renowned broadcasting program. There were days that would definitely be easier if she could just drop out of school. She could work her way through the ranks of the local cable access channel or find a circus to run away with. Anything but sling coffee so she could pay to go to class.

Cause of all the awful things Mariel had to deal with on a daily basis working there, Meg was the worst.

Meg with her messy buns and her uggs and the patterned leggings she wore every day. Meg who sat at the bar right in Mariel’s eye line and typed away on her MacBook and always humming something that sounded suspiciously like Taylor Swift under her breath while she did it. Meg who couldn’t be closer to the textbook definition of basic if she tried.

Meg who Mariel might have a small crush on. 

Meg who was almost definitely as straight as they come.

Yeah, Starbucks was basically hell.

It's not like Mariel meant for this to happen though. She wouldn't say she had a type, but if she did it looked more like a women’s studies or art major in flannel than it did a bubbly brunette in a North Face. Really liking Meg at all came as a surprise to her. Like any good lesbian she did her time crushing on straight girls in high school, but when she made it to college she tuned up her gaydar and made sure it didn't happen again.

Until Meg came strolling into her life.

Of all the coffee shops on all the campuses Meg came stomping into hers.

Literally stomping.

The rain had been coming down in buckets since Mariel had stepped through the doors, and for once she was happy that she was scheduled to work for so long. They were just out of the way enough that they didn’t get a lot of business on rainy days. Students on their way to class didn’t want to stop by the student center like they normally would and the ones leaving class just wanted to be home. It left Mariel with little more to do than stand around and stare off into the empty space around her. Only having to make drinks occasionally for those brave enough to walk in.

The door being flung open in a burst of rain chilled air scared the hell out of all of them, Mariel was pretty certain. Then came the stomping by the front door, a sound that turned out to be a very wet and upset Meg trying to shake off the excess water from her uggs. She wasn't bothered at all by Mariel’s glaring and, once her boots were dried to her satisfaction, strolled up to the counter to order her drink.

That should have been the end of things.

Mariel refused to consider that what spawned from this was even a little bit her fault.

She was just doing her job by writing the name on the cup and while, yes, she would admit to  _ occasionally  _ butchering someone's name on purpose for a laugh, today wasn't one of those days. She just wrote the name as she heard it, and handed it off to Patrick to fix. It was called out and the drink was picked up.

There was an honest to god gasp when she noticed the name.  _ Meghan.  _ Mariel really couldn't believe it, and she made a game of seeing how many x, y, and z’s she could fit in a name before it became too ridiculous. There was a gasp and a pout and then a phone pulled up to document what must have been a traumatic moment in this girl's life. If she weren't at work Mariel would have laughed.

She did have to admit, it was a pretty cute pout.

It became something like a game after that. Purposefully misspelling this girl’s name just to see that overreaction again.

The next time she came in the sitting area was full and the sound of talking overpowered the music leaving the speakers; but Mariel still recognized the small brunette with the messy bun the moment she stepped into line. She’d been practicing her white, suburban mom spelling for just this moment.

_ Meagen. _

A sneer, another picture that she sent off to someone before she settled at the bar with her laptop. Not even close to what Mariel had been hoping for.

She stepped up her game the next time.

_ Meaghun. _

This one earned Mariel a laugh and for some reason her customer service smile felt less forced for the rest of the day.

She never did get a reaction as good as the first one. It was never as pure. It wasn’t that Mariel had stopped trying, more that she’d run out of vowels to try to squeeze into such a simple name.

The next time Meg came in Mariel was working the busiest shift of the day on her own. Tyler had called in sick that morning and no one could cover. She moved on autopilot and when her favorite brunette came up she didn’t even think about butchering her name.

It wasn’t until there was a lull and Mariel could start using her brain again that she realized what she’d put on the cup.

_ Megg. _

Mariel settled back against the back counter so she could catch her breath and still watch the door for new customers. It put her right in Meg’s line of sight.

“You’re in Sorola’s Ethics of Broadcast Journalism class, right?” Meg asked, the first thing she’d said to Mariel that wasn’t a coffee order.

“Yeah, Tuesday and Thursday at 9:35.”

Her eyes lit up like that was just the answer she was hoping to hear. “Have you started on that paper that’s due next week.”

“It’s five pages, of course I’ve opened it and put my name in the header.”

Meg giggled, Mariel realized her smile was as cute as her pout was, “So I’m not the only one putting it off, that’s a relief.”

“After that test? No, you aren’t. I heard he doesn’t even grade them, just gives them to his TA or reads the first page and grades that.”

Meg looked at her, eyes wide behind purple frames and a small smile on her face. “He does  _ not _ .”

Mariel shrugged a matching smile on her own. “I don’t know, you saw how fast he got rid of the essay question on the test, I just think he’s too lazy to grade it.”

Meg giggled again, Mariel felt like the room was warmer than it had been for some reason. She looked like she was about to say something else when her phone chimed, “Shit, fuck, I’m gonna be late. I’ll see you around…”

“Mariel.”

“Mariel,” Meg repeated, smile still on her face even as she continued to run later. “Meg,” she introduced, “with one g.”

She threw her things in her bag quickly without another word, throwing Mariel another shy smile when she hit the end of the bar before rushing out the door.

Mariel wasn’t sure what to think of her after that.

Meg made a point of hanging around the Starbucks at least once a week after that. Mariel wondered if she came in everyday or if she just learned Mariel’s schedule and came in to bother her. Meg sat and typed away at her computer most of the time, headphones in place and staring at her screen, and whenever there was a lull she was demanding Mariel’s attention. First about their shared class, then about whatever Meg was thinking about at the time.

It made her wonder what Meg was like outside of these coffee shop interactions. When Meg would bounce from conversation topic to conversation topic in the time it took Mariel to deal with new customers.

She could, and often would, start conversations innocently enough, always promising not to distract Mariel from her job; but then without fail she would have Mariel’s attention all to herself by the end of the shift. Like today, where she ordered her drink and then followed it up with, “What would it take to convince you to write an essay for my multiplatform news presentation class?”

“Are you serious?” Mariel asked.

“Yes, Mariel, it’s due tomorrow!” Meg whined, “I am suffering, put me out of my misery. I’ll do anything.”

“Careful who you make that offer to, someone might take you up on it,” Mariel said moving away from the corner she stood in to talk to Meg and back to the register to deal with the line of people who had just gotten out of class.

It took forever to clear out the line and by the time she got back to Meg the girl was staring down at her phone like she was waiting for it to reveal the answers to the universe and that she was annoyed that she had to wait.

“If you get pressured into going to the sorority talent show, do you also have to go home and change?” she asked.

Mariel rolled with the change in subject like she did every time, even though she did have some thoughts on what Meg could do to get her to write that paper. She made a show of going up on her toes to peek over the top of the glass divider that separated them so she could see Meg's outfit in full.

“Well if the dress code actually says ‘basic bitch’ then you’re probably fine with what you have on,” Mariel said.

“Mariel,” Meg whined, “be serious.”

“I'm always serious, but fine, get up and give me a spin.”

Meg giggled and made a show of posing as she spun to give Mariel the full view. Mariel made a show of thinking about Meg’s outfit - maybe not a show, she really was thinking about Meg’s outfit, thinking about how good her ass looked.

“You know, you’re right. You should trade the uggs for a pair of those awful sandals, even your sorority sisters aren’t wearing the boots anymore.”

Meg tried to look offended but wasn’t quite hitting the mark. “There is nothing wrong with my uggs!”

“Did the sheep you’re wearing have names before you put them on?”

“Alright,” Meg said, “I get it, you’re a hater. I'll dress a little nicer for my  _ roommate’s  _ sorority event.” 

“Pull out your nice leggings and brush your hair.”

“I'll have you know this is in right now, it takes time to get a bun this artfully messy.”

The desire to reach over and mess with that ‘artfully messy’ hair was overwhelming enough that Mariel couldn't resist. She laughed as Meg smacked her hand away, and fussed with the bun again.

“So,” Mariel said, “what I'm hearing is you don't just wake up like this.”

Meg grinned, “Depends on how I go to bed.”

There was something in the way she said that, which left Mariel looking at her without her usual teasing response. She opened her mouth to say  _ something  _ hoping instinct would take over where her brain had shorted out, but as she did Meg's phone chimed.

She sighed, like once again the device had wronged her, and said “I have to go, someone needs  _ my  _ fashion advice.”

She left before Mariel could come up with anything else to say. If Mariel was feeling particularly dramatic she would even say Meg stormed off.

That was how it usually went. Mariel would feel like they were building to something and then Meg would leave. Then Meg would come in during Mariel’s next shift and whatever build thought had been there was back at the bottom.

It was rare that Mariel was the one demanding the other girl’s attention, but today Meg was locked in deep focus on whatever she was doing and hadn’t noticed that Mariel had finished with the morning rush. She stood around for a minute, the line had only just died down, she could wait for Meg to pipe up like she normally would about whatever was on her mind.

When she didn’t Mariel almost felt silly as she wiped down the counter waiting for this girl to talk to her. She felt like she should remind herself that she didn’t hang out with girls like this, made fun of basics like her with Tyler over drinks all the time.

She really wanted Meg’s attention.

So she did what anyone would do in her situation, reached over the glass divider and snagged one of Meg’s earbuds from her ear. Mariel wasn’t surprised at all to hear Taylor blasting from it.

Meg smiled at her, any annoyance she was trying to hold on her face was completely overshadowed by the laughter in in her eyes. “Can I help you?” she asked.

“You couldn’t be more basic if you tried,” Mariel said.

Meg grinned, her head still propped in her hand like it had been before Mariel interrupted her. “It’s a gift, T-Swift is the best for paper writing.”

“I stand corrected,” Mariel teased. “It’s not official but we’ve got pumpkin spice in the back if you need another drink.”

Meg stuck her tongue out in childish response, “I’ll have you know pumpkin spice is disgusting, but if you’ve got peppermint hidden back there.”

“No such luck, glad to see you have some taste.”

“I have  _ excellent  _ taste. But even if I didn’t, you’d like me anyway.”

Mariel suddenly realized she was in trouble. She could feel a blush spread across her cheeks, if she didn’t know better she’d think Meg was flirting with her. That couldn’t be possible, but it suddenly made sense why she’d wanted Meg’s attention so badly.

“Hey,” Meg said, a strange look on her face as she sat up straighter, “so there’s this thing--”

“Is this where you’ve been spending all your time?” a voice asked, interrupting whatever it was Meg had been about to say. “Should I be worried about a caffeine addiction, should I stage an intervention.”

The voice was attached to an objectively attractive man, blonde and strapping. A man Meg seemed extremely happy to see.

“RyRy,” she said, jumping up to give him a hug, “like you can talk with your six diet coke a day habit.”

“I can quit anytime I want to,” he said.

“What are you doing here,” she asked, all thought of Mariel and whatever Meg had planned to say to her gone in place of talking to this guy. Mariel tried not to feel awkward as she eavesdropped and wiped down the same six inches of the counter. “I thought you had practice today?”

“Got out early, thought we could go out or maybe head back to my room I just got that new game.”

Boyfriend. Right. That’s why Mariel didn’t mess with the basic bitches. They were always straight and they always had boyfriends.

Meg’s eyes lit up and Mariel knew it was a lost cause but something about that excited look made her feel a little more infatuated.

She threw her stuff in her bag and headed out the door barely taking the time to say, “See you later, Mar.”

She watched the two of them leave, Meg waving her arms excitedly as she talked to her blonde friend. Yeah, Mariel was good and screwed.

She couldn’t stay away from Meg though, not that she tried that hard. The girl still came in and stayed for hours at a time at least once a week, sometimes Ryan joined her for a little while and sometimes he didn’t. Mariel did her best to force some distance, to try not to flirt so obviously when there was a chance her boyfriend could walk in at any moment. She didn’t try at that very hard either.

“I’ve got a double shot latte for Basic,” Tyler called out.

Meg walked up and grabbed her drink making a face at Mariel when she saw her laughing before going to a back table that Ryan had grabbed them.

“If you’re gonna flirt, could you try to be a little less obnoxious?” Tyler asked, leaning against the counter beside her.

“I’m not flirting, she’s a basic, you know that’s not my type.”

“I don’t know how to break this to you, honey bunch, but you’re  _ also _ a basic.”

“You take that back, I’m a hipster at worst. More like an indie queer.”

“You called Carly Rae’s album the best of the year, you worship Beyoncé, and talk about starting a pancake restaurant every time you get drunk. You’re basic as shit.”

“Keep saying shit like that and I won’t be your beard when we go bar hopping anymore.”

“Is that all it takes,” he asked, “cause please, do that. You’re really making it hard to get dates.”

Mariel rolled her eyes. “Who the hell are you trying to date?”

“Hottie in the corner, across from the pretty little thing you’ve set your sights on.”

She managed to school her expression, surprised though she knew she shouldn’t be. “I didn’t know he was your type, thought you were into leggy brunettes.”

Tyler scoffed, “And deprive the world of all this? I don’t like to limit myself, everybody’s my type including tall, blonde, and handsome over there. You always miss out if you don’t broaden your horizons, Mar-bear.”

Marile glared at the use of the unfortunate nickname. “Hate to break it to you TyTy, but he’s dating Meg.”

Tyler rolled his eyes now, “Why do you even work here if you aren’t going to use it for the gossip?”

She shoved at his shoulder, she didn’t have the force to knock him off balance but he moved enough that he could rock back into her shoulder. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh c’mon, people talk about shit in front of us all the time like we aren’t even here. You tellin’ me you don’t ever listen.”

“They order a drink, I make the drink. I don’t care what they’re talking about before.”

Tyler sighed, like she was the one being difficult. She know he was about to say something but they were interrupted by a customer. A small stream of people kept them busy, but it wasn’t long before they were leaning against that counter again.

“So?” she asked.

“So what?” he asked.

“You were gonna say something, that was going to solve all our problems.  _ So _ what the hell was it?”

“Oh, that,” he said like he’d forgotten. “Well, heard last week that Ryan, our handsome theatre major over there, is the lead in the mainstage production.”

“Who cares?”

“Let me finish! I heard he was looking for a date to the cast party on Saturday.”

“That’s great for you, Tyler, I’m just thrilled, really.”

“Christ, all about you, isn’t it. He’s looking for a date cause his usual choice is interested in someone else. Doesn’t wanna give them the wrong idea.”

“Okay.” Mariel said a light, happy feeling settling over her, but she was still cautious, “That doesn’t mean she’s interested in me.”

“No. The fact that she comes in everyday but only stays for hours when  _ you’re  _ the one working, and has been doing that for a month. That’s what means she’s interested in you.”

Mariel was a little stunned, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say to that.

Actually she did and it was, “It would mean that, if she wasn't straight.”

Tyler rolled his eyes again, “You need to tune up your gaydar, add some bi-fi or a pan scan. Straight girls don't look over at their cute barista every five minutes to see if she's looking at them.”

Mariel was ready to contradict him but when she turned and made eye contact with Meg.

“You can skip the part where you tell me I’m right and just watch to make sure no one important comes in while I'm fellating this cake pop to distract Ryan.”

She turned to look, because despite being friends with Tyler for as long as she had she still didn’t believe he was serious. He was, of course, and he was smug about it too.

She still had to ask though. “Are you serious?”

“Unless you have a better phallic stand in.”

It didn’t matter, Ryan came up to the counter after that with a shy, nervous smile on his face.

“Hey, Tyler.”

“Hey Ryan, can I get you somethin’? On the house for the star of the big show.” Tyler had his flirty smile in place, Mariel could have rolled her eyes at how over the top it was. If it weren’t for Ryan’s pink cheeks, she would have tried to tell him to take it down a notch.

Even watching their production, Mariel didn’t miss Meg sneaking up to the counter with the encouraging face of a friend who’d spent a fair bit of time coaching this conversation. She saw Mariel looking and winked turning back to the conversation without a word.

“Uh- No not, nothing thanks. I was just wondering if you were still coming to the show Saturday?”

Tyler’s grin got even wider. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, reaching to give Ryan’s arm a more than friendly touch.

Mariel could hear Meg’s stifled gasp of delight. She was adorable.

Ryan seemed even more flustered. “Great, that’s um, awesome. I was, I mean if you’re interested it’d be neat, but don’t feel like you have to, if you’d go to the cast party with me.”

“I’d love to.”

“Great, amazing, I’m gonna miss call, but I’ll see you there.”

He tripped over his own feet on his way out the door and seemed to force himself not to look back and see if Tyler saw it. “I’m gonna take my break,” Tyler announced, “you can handle this right, Mar?”

He didn’t wait for her answer before heading to the back, leaving Mariel alone at the counter with Meg.

“Great actor, but an absolute trainwreck when his dialogue isn’t scripted,” Meg said.

“Good thing he’s got a friend like you to push him. What’d you do? Promise a rom-com and T-Swift binge if Tyler said no?”

“Funny,” she said rolling her eyes. “I told him if he went through with asking Tyler then I would do something similar.”

“Oh yeah,” Mariel asked, not wanting to get her hopes up, “you think it’s gonna go well?”

“I’m pretty confidant,” Meg said, “but every time we get a good flirt going we get interrupted.”

“Seems like a bad sign to me,” Mariel said.

“I think it’s a sign I need friends with better timing.”

“So who gets the privilege of a date with you?”

“Mariel,” she said with a sweet smile, like she knew the answer she was going to get already, “would you like to go to Ryan’s show with me on Saturday? Maybe grab dinner first?”

“One condition,” Mariel said.

“Name it,” Meg said eagerly.

“Don’t wear the fucking uggs.”

“Are you gonna be this easy to please on Saturday?” Meg asked.

Mariel did her best not to blush, wondering how the hell she'd had any doubts that Meg was flirting with her when she was looking at Mariel like that. Pleased and smirking.

“Remind me why I like you?”

“You're stealing my line,” Meg said. “What kind of barista doesn't write her number on her cute customer’s cup? Or at least compliment her by vandalising the safety warning.”

“Basic,” Mariel teased.

“You love it.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me [here](http://formosusiniquis.tumblr.com/) for all the latest on my attempts at writing.


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